CULTURE SHOCK: The Silent Treatment Affair
by Felicia Angel
Summary: Illya's on his own when it comes to a fiveyear old, Celeste, and an assignment about someone bent on stealing voices.
1. Act 1: When I was a Child

Disclaimer: You read the others, you know the drill.

Notes: Kid-fic!

REAL Notes: The stuff that Elaine is reading is a Croatian translation of a French novella called "L'Amant", and it was translated by Zeljko Klaic. I'd put the actual title but my computer doesn't have that alphabet anywhere and neither did our IM session...

Synopsis: A mission to retrieve a family goes sour, and now Illya is faced with problems involving a child, Celeste, and a man bent on stealing voices.

Culture Shock

**Part 4: The Silent Treatment Affair**

Anyone who passed by without a closer look would have thought Elaine to be deeply absorbed in her work, eyes a-glint as she struggled with some thorny puzzle of idiom that would unravel into something rewarding and ultimately useful for her current employers. That is indeed what any other clerk in the Translations and Filing section thought as they went about their business, paying little mind to this singularly talented young woman and her current task.

She took a deep breath in anticipation and turned the page, not realizing that a visitor had stopped by her desk and now read through the stack of translated documents to gain some idea of their merit or lack thereof. _This is getting better and better,_ she thought as she turned each phrase over in her mind like juicy morsels and thanked providence for the colleague in her prior place of employment that had thought to give her this particular piece of literature.

A voice speaking nearby did little to distract her until she realized that it was Slavic-accented male speech painting each word of translated English with disbelief and faint disgust. "I smell the scents of welcome, the signs of acceptance from the depths of the body, wisps of smoke from a willing victim set aflame..."

Elaine dropped her reading material, startled, and glanced upward guiltily at the most decidedly unamused countenance of Illya, who frowned slightly and retrieved the book. "Honestly, it's not what you think," she stammered, making a futile grab for her lost treasure and pouting when it was moved out of reach.

"The naked young lady on the cover would dare to say otherwise," remarked Illya, opening the cover and skimming through the pages. After some minutes of study, he snapped the book closed again and looked back to the now furiously-blushing Elaine. "Inappropriate."

Elaine, struggling to salvage the situation, now turned indignant. "It's reading practice," she hissed, "and a gift from a coworker. It's not in English anyway, so what's the big deal?"

"Your skill with the language does not bother me so much as how it is put to use. If that is how you served your military where you came from, then it would be an understatement to say that I'm worried."

_And now for your saving roll... critical failure!_ Elaine felt her guts turn leaden when she realized that she had been well and truly caught and that there would be no way out of this situation. "Would it help any if I said that I've gotten all of today's work done and had nothing else to do?" This attempt was not even met with a reply, and Elaine sighed. "All right, how much trouble am I in?"

"That is up to you." Pleased murmurs and giggles could now be heard as yet another visitor made their appearance in the Translations office, happiness that quickly turned sour as the source of their admiration passed them by with other plans in mind. Elaine let out a dismayed mew; at any other time, this gentleman would have been a welcome distraction, but now he would only serve to further her humiliation. "If you are really looking for trouble, then here it is. You're right on time, Napoleon..."

Unaware of what he'd just walked into, Napoleon shot a puzzled look at Illya. "On time for what?"

Illya reopened the book to the dogeared page marking Elaine's most recent reading, then skimmed forward until he found a satisfactory passage. "Elaine was just demonstrating some of her skills in translation. Why don't you read this for us, Elaine?"

Elaine stood and read over the indicated phrases, forcing herself to grab onto the edge of the desk as her knees went weak from nerves. "O-open me and drink... let me quench your thirst... or until I am stripped, withered, dried out and exhausted..."

"That will be enough. Thank you, Elaine." Illya closed the book and handed it back to its owner, then turned and left with no further words.

"That was... interesting," Napoleon muttered, watching his partner walk away for a moment before turning back to the radiant red flare of Elaine's normally calm features. "It's a good thing I came in when I did – you look like you need some air."

"Tell me about it." Elaine tidied up her desk and made sure to carefully secure the indemnifying book before likewise leaving the office, Napoleon a step behind. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"Worse things could have happened," replied Napoleon, giving her a reassuring smile. "Illya was at least charitable to you. Mr. Waverly would probably have flayed you alive. I do have one question, though..."

"Shoot."

"Isn't the real thing better than reading about it? Even as it was so masterfully rendered by you, under such incredible pressure."

Elaine shrugged, then scowled when she caught the drift of this inquiry. "I wouldn't know, Mr. Solo. I haven't had anything to compare it to for the past three years, and that doesn't seem likely to change."

* * *

Having found that item he was looking for was actually in Filing and not in Translations, Illya grumbled and hoped that the next person he was about to see would be a tad more professional, for all her confines to a desk. The wound had healed well but still gave her enough problems to make the doctors hesitate on releasing her from limited duties or the crutch, and her tendency to over-exert herself in order to get off said duties was taking it's toll and keeping her on it.

Which made it only a small surprise when he walked in to see her lying on a couch nearby with her leg bent and looking like she needed help straightening out, though he had to admit he should've foreseen this coming.

"Need a hand?" he asked as she looked up at him. With a frown his way, she straightened her leg with a grimace and sighed.

"My knees had to give out on me _now_," she muttered as she stood slowly, testing her leg. "At least I got industrial-strength pain-killers with codine before. What can I do for you today, Illya?"

He handed her the note. "I need a file on someone, Dr. Elijah Wintser and his wife, Karen. Some recent activity has caused us to believe they may be in danger and need to be moved."

Celeste checked the file and nodded, walking towards the back as he followed her, Celeste asking, "So, according to this you stopped by Translations too. How's Elaine?"

"Humbled, I suppose."

"Oh, someone came in and could translate as well as she could?" Celeste knelt by the appropriate cabinet and opened it, shuffling through the folders for the number. "Or was this something else?"

"Something else, entirely."

"Huh. Should I be worried?"

"I do not think you should," he told her, leaning against the row they were at as she checked, "she was simply reading something that was not recommended for while one was on the job, and I spoke to her about it. Last I saw her, she had left to speak with Napoleon."

"You know, there's some rumors going around about them dating. As she stays here and he always goes out, even with other ladies, I would have to guess they--."

Two new voices, this one of Ms. Delia Jackson and Ms. Sarah Evans, cut her short. "He made her _read _it to _Napoleon_?"

"I'm amazed she's still working! You should have heard it...the type of smut those two bring to work, I'm amazed Mr. Waverly puts up with them at all."

"They're nice girls," Evans said in defense, "and it's not their fault, after all. After their stay here, maybe they'll be more...decent."

A sniff. "After the phrase I heard from that book, they _should _be. I'm glad Mr. Kuryakin had some sense and reprimanded her in such a way. Maybe now that she's a laughing stock, Mr. Solo will stop spending so much time with her. Did you hear that he once spent the night over while Celeste was in Medical?"

"I did, but nothing _happened..._did it?"

"With Solo's reputation, I would be surprised if it _didn't._ Still, perhaps he enjoys ladies over s--."

The filing cabinet slammed shut suddenly, causing everyone to jump and Illya to hear the two secretaries retreating. He turned and faced Celeste, who had an unreadable look on her face and the file in one hand. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but as she was normally expressive in the first place, this scared him a little.

"Thank you," he said, holding out his hand for the file before it was pushed roughly against his chest, Celeste pushing back and towards the exit as she said, "I don't know or care what rank you hold in this little organization, but blackmailing Elaine is _my _job only because I don't let her business get out in such a manner. You do it again and you'll be in for a whole new world of hurt, and don't think I can't pull it off. Now get out of my sight."

With that, she shoved him out the doors just as they opened, turned, and stalked back towards where her gossiping coworkers had been.

Illya looked at the folder, happy it was gotten, and sighed. Somehow, he realized this was not about to be his day.

_Act 1: "When I was a Child..."_

Certain signs are there for all of us to notice when days are going to be good or bad. Sometimes, of course, the higher-ups decide to screw with us anyway and make good days turn out bad, or bad days turn out to be worse then we expected.

Said higher-ups also pick on certain people, mainly spies or anyone who is trying to save the known world from a terrible injustice or demise.

So yes, the greater powers of the Universe are really just writers with nothing better to do then torment the unsuspecting.

Also a good point is the fact that said higher powers enjoy tormenting a certain blond Russian as much as insanely possible that it's a wonder he's not dead or hasn't gone looking for a job elsewhere, as his thoughts were currently going to as another bullet came dangerously close to his head while he was hiding from the snipers that had chosen to attack him as he was going about his assignment.

Illya had to remember that easy assignments rarely were that, always had some evil twist to them, or were just a prelude to an even worse assignment that usually involved him being shot at, kidnapped, tortured, imprisoned, saving Napoleon, or stuck with someone he couldn't stand. This one had no Napoleon, though he would've been helpful at this moment to help take out or distract the snipers. Shot at was already happening, tortured was something he wanted to avoid, as was being kidnapped or imprisoned, but sadly he was now stuck with someone...well, something, he normally couldn't stand.

Fredrick was all of five years old and had been hiding when his parents had been captured. Illya had found him later and, when the people had come to get more evidence, all of which Illya had on him, he had grabbed the young boy and was now waiting for backup that was supposed to have arrived five minutes ago.

The boy was currently covering his ears and curled tightly into a ball, so at least not running away or doing anything silly. Before he had kicked Illya in the back hard enough to bruise, and nearly hit him in the kidney a few times while the spy had been taking him to safety.

A few shots from the other side and the lack of shots at his hiding spot told Illya that help had finally arrived. His mood wasn't improved that it was two agents he couldn't stand and who tended to speak badly of his background anyway. They looked him over as he picked the boy up and decided to take his own car back. He was lucky it hadn't been shot, but the traffic had turned into lunchtime traffic and made it harder to get back. On top of that, Fredrick seemed scared of him and only came with him if bodily picked up.

Illya disliked children, though not because of the fact that children disliked him. Most seemed to like him, but he had no idea as to how to handle them, and while he was good at lying, a child often saw through it. Napoleon was good with children...if that report from what had been titled "The Finny Foot Affair" said anything, he had children liking him no matter what the situation. So Illya left him to deal with children, and himself to deal with the adults as need be.

Though from the fact that Celeste didn't wish to speak to him for what happened today, for all it was Elaine's fault, made him wonder about his adult-skills though. Napoleon had gotten a call for an assignment while with Elaine and while Illya had looked up his own. It had been a small surprise when he learned that Napoleon would be away for the remainder of the week, and that Celeste had managed to salvage Elaine's reputation. How, he wasn't sure and hadn't had the time to ask, but from the looks on the secretary's faces when asked, it had involved the two who were gossiping and it hadn't been good for them.

Of course, all bad things had to happen to him, for as he was trying to get to Waverly and when he put the child down, Fredrick took that moment to disappear from his sight.

* * *

Celeste looked up at the sound of the door opening, then frowned upon not seeing anyone there. She looked around before, as the door closed, looked over her desk and down in time to see a young boy look up at her with wide brown eyes.

She smiled at him, waving her hand a little. "Hi."

The boy blinked at her, and she took in the slightly dirty clothing, complete with something that looked like it was out of those old black and white movies or shows involving children, and his hair, a dusty blond color, was ruffled and in disarray.

"You okay? What are you doing here?"

He looked back at the door then up at her again.

"Hiding?"

A nod, which at least confirmed he spoke English, but obviously didn't speak. Celeste frowned and then said, "Well, come around here if you're hiding, okay? You can be hidden over here a lot more then over there."

There was a look at the counter then the boy started to walk around as the doors opened again and the one person Celeste didn't want to see rushed in, stopping as he spotted the boy, who had paled and was now looking like he was ready to bolt.

Illya looked at the boy with some anger then growled, "There you are," before walking forward as the boy bolted under Celeste's desk. Not bothering to ask, Illya started after him when Celeste reached over and grabbed his ear, causing him to stop instantly and forcing him to look up at her.

"What," she demanded in a voice that sounded a little too much like her mother, "is going on?"

He grimaced at the grip on his ear and said, "He's part of the assignment I'm working on. His parents have been kidnapped and I'm trying to get information!"

"By scaring the poor kid to death just by appearing and saying something?" She stood, dragging him up with her as she continued, "By treating him like an enemy instead of an obviously young and scared little kid who doesn't know what's going on? Unless you give me a better reason then that, Kuryakin, I'd say you'd better find a new tone of voice to take with him before you try again."

"Celeste, he--."

"I mean it! Don't think you can sweet-talk, over-talk or use any type of authority to get him," now she dragged him towards the door, "when you obviously have no clue how to handle kids. Until I see some kind of a change, you come in here again and, wounded leg or not, I will go medieval on your butt. Capisce?"

Illya grimaced then nodded slightly, his ear still caught.

"Good. Now, out!" With that, she pushed him out the door again, waited until it was closed, then walked over and knelt to look at the still wide-eyed boy, but now she was smiling.

"The bad man's gone for now," she told him, reaching only partly in. "Come on. I'm Celeste. I'll take care of you until he gets your parents back."

At those words, the kid moved forward, then launched himself at her and latched onto her neck. Celeste smiled and returned to her seat, then new addition watching her as she worked and explained how to arrange the documents before having him help out.

* * *

Napoleon's mission was apparently easy but would take a few days, meaning he couldn't help. After what had happened to the two gossiping secretaries, very few of them were willing to go near Celeste while she was in her bad mood. Telling Waverly about it would be just admitting that he couldn't take care of the situation himself.

That left finding Elaine and hoping she was in a good mood after what happened this morning, and if she was, then hoping she could convince Celeste to forgive him for a few minutes so he could try and talk to the child.

Illya sighed as he made his way back to Translations. His only real experience with a child was the one from the "Four-Steps Affair", the young man really who wasn't so much a child as a reincarnated adult, at the time ten, who had disregarded an order of his and nearly got himself killed. Illya had been angry with him and later apologized by getting him a box of American bubble-gum, along with making sure he was protected.

But that boy had been more a man then a boy. This one was a scared child who didn't speak, at least not to Illya, and who was the only lead to finding his parents. Celeste having him was good, but not good enough.

As he walked up, he heard Elaine's voice speaking to the others.

"Okay," she said in a voice that sounded like she was making a speech, or coming to the end of one, "so I did get caught reading something dirty at my desk - not too bright, I know - and then I had to read it out loud to him. But let me ask this - would any of you Barbies have the rocks to do something like that and survive? I don't think so."

A few mutterings aside, Illya walked in to see that Elaine was once more not paying attention to who was entering, and was addressing a few of the more conspiring and gossiping women within the UNCLE confines.

"And you know what else, ladies?" Elaine continued, "I'm human, but at least I'm willing to do something about it instead of just giggle and preen and worry about my hairdo. Get the hell over yourselves, and go back to work." As the girls dispersed sullenly and Elaine looked back down, he heard her mutter, "Jesus H. Christ, what a bunch of airheads..."

"So I gather," he said softly, catching her attention as she looked up suddenly. "I'm amazed at how you handled the situation."

"You mean the one you helped me get into?" Elaine gave him a wave of her hand to dismiss it. "I should've known better, it's true. Considering I had a higher-up tell me more then once how he'd let me get through sleeping at my desk but only if productive, I should've expected it. Plus, Napoleon pointed out Waverly would've had my head on a stick for it, so I guess I should be thankful it was someone I know slightly well and not the big-man himself. But that brings up what you're doing here and why you look like you've had one bad day."

Illya let out a snort. "I've had 'bad days'. This one is worse."

"Oh...I know those. Had quite a few myself, but, well..."

"It's about Celeste."

"About what she did to those two secretaries? I heard and while I'm grateful--."

Illya shook his head. "No, no, it's about my case. I had to extract a family, and instead I only found the child. Of the parents, I have no idea, but his name is Fredrick. I must have scared him, because the first chance he got, he disappeared on me and reappeared where Celeste was working. When I tried to get him, she accused me of scaring the child and threw me out."

Elaine tilted her head then shrugged. "And...I guess she must've had a point on it."

"She's mad at me for what happened to you today, that's no point!"

Elaine blinked, then shook her head. "Illya, as much as we're alike, I guess you're dense in this. Celeste doesn't stay mad at people unless they give her a good reason to. You did something that a supervisor should, but she was just mad because of what happened and the damage control we had to do...plus those girls weren't helpful, so you caught her at a bad time. But with kids...well..."

"Well what?"

"I've seen Celeste with kids. Kids adopt her. Celeste adopts the kids. They have fun and at the end of the day they want to keep her like a stray puppy. If the kids are stray, Celeste wants to keep them herself as well. Me, kids like but I have no clue how to handle them."

Illya nodded. "Then we're in the same boat, to a degree. I've had...few experiences, with children of Fredrick's age."

"Which is?"

"Five."

Elaine paused, considering it, and finally patted him on the shoulder. "You're on your own. Like I said, kids like me but I'm scared of them."

Illya looked over at her then asked, "Any ideas then?"

"Ask for her help on the kid's point while you do the footwork on everything else. Tell Waverly that you're not sure how well that kid, Fred, has reacted to everything and he seemed attached to Celeste so you left him with her until you have more information or need his help. When you go back in, offer him something nice, like a lollypop or something like that. Talk softly and don't get angry. But ask Celeste first what she's found out."

"That's it?"

"What can I say? It's either that or kidnap the kid from Celeste, and if you do...name someone else as your accomplice, because I'm not touching that one."

Illya nodded. "I will blame Napoleon then."

Elaine snorted. "Fine someone plausible first, and that takes off me _and _Napoleon." She finally gave him a smile as he got up. "You'll figure it out, Illya. Who knows? Maybe the kid will adopt you."

Illya made a small face at the thought as he left to speak to Mr. Waverly about his situation and hope that good luck was waiting for him somewhere in this mission.


	2. Act 2: A Child's Mind

_Act 2: "A Child's Mind"_

"The child's with Celeste?" Waverly said, "That is…unexpected."

Illya nodded, not sure what else to do. "From what I've seen and heard, Celeste is good with children. Hopefully she will be able to get him to speak, or at least give us some clues as to where his family is or who took them. Elaine has confirmed that Celeste is good with children. I, however, am not and have obviously scared him. It would be easier on me to do what I could to find the parents and try to coordinate with Celeste."

Waverly nodded in agreement. "Very well, whatever you must do. However, I would suggest learning how to deal with children and apologizing to Celeste first, before you go back in."

Illya was grateful for his shaded glasses, so he could hide some of the embarrassment he felt on the situation.

* * *

"Can you spell?"

The young boy nodded as the paper, extra printout papers usually used on the computers and the old type she remembered from her elementary school days and the huge floppy disks and older computers with typing games and the original Oregon Trail, was placed on the ground before him. In her pants was a grouping of crayons she had managed to obtain from another secretary.

The message had come in a type of note that she had found after taking the boy to get something to eat, a small apology for his earlier behavior as well as the note that said he wanted her to help him with the assignment by asking the kid about his parents or anything else.

So lots of paper and crayons later, she had a kid who could write but didn't speak, which meant that colorings and interpretations would be in order.

Good, it gave him something to do.

"Okay, let's see you spell. Start with your name."

The boy took out a brilliant blue crayon and began to write, careful about it but finally spelling out the long and obviously hard 'Fredrick' in big, blocky letters.

Celeste smiled at him as he looked up. "Great! You want to see mine?"

He nodded enthusiastically as she picked up another part of the paper and wrote, in dark purple, her own name in slightly bad writing. Hers wasn't the best but this wasn't her worst.

The boy smiled at the name and looked over at it, obviously reading it with care before looking back up at her, as if waiting for the next question.

Celeste tilted her head. "Used to showing off, are you? All right then. Can you draw your family?"

Another nod and more pickings of colors before three people were drawn, over them the labeling 'Me', 'Pappa' and 'Mama'. She frowned as she noticed that while the father was smiling and so was Fredrick, the mother had no mouth.

She tapped on the mouth area. "Where's Mama's mouth? Can't she speak?"

Fredrick shook his head and tapped his own lips with the signal to be quiet.

"You want to be quiet like Mama?"

A nod.

"What about Pappa? Doesn't he like to talk?"

A shrug as he continued to draw then put in a small lab separating the 'Pappa' from him and his mother.

"He works in the lab all the time? Why?"

Fredrick looked over at her then drew what looked like a medical book's side-view of a throat, only as a child would. He then tapped his own throat and smiled.

"He's trying to get Mama a voice?"

A large nod before the child looked sad and gave Celeste a hug.

"Oh? What's wrong?"

More crayons and coloring to show a large bird coming in to take away the father and mother, a dark colored man holding Fredrick from them as bullets or something came after them.

"Someone took them away. A bird?"

A new name came out on the bird. "S. Avian", and Fredrick once more hugged Celeste.

Celeste hugged him back and cut off that part of the paper, giving him the rest. "It's okay. We'll find them, don't worry, and your mama will get her voice back. Promise, okay, and promises aren't to be broken, are they?"

A shake of the head against her stomach as she petted his hair. "Well, we have the best person for promises there is: we have Mr. Waverly. Have you met him?"

Another shake.

"No? That's too bad. He's a very nice man, and he's old too. The older the person, the more power they usually have, and he's one of the oldest people I've seen ever. Would you like to meet him? He'll promise you, and when he promises he keeps them no matter what happens. Even bad things, he promises good things and they always come through."

Fredrick looked up at her then tapped on the picture of the dark-clothed man.

_Oh…Illya._

"He's not so bad."  
A skeptical look, and Celeste nodded at it. "It's true! He was angry at something else when he found you, and people shooting at you makes people scared. When you disappear, people get angry too."

A look and she smiled at him before saying, "When I was three and able to walk, I disappeared in a huge fair from my parents. They were holding my sister and suddenly I was gone. They spent an hour looking for me, and that's a long time, right?"

A nod as she continued, "So when they found me, they were very angry at me because I had made them scared. You scared Illya, so he was angry. He scared me, so I got angry at him. Understand?"

A pause, then a nod. He still looked a little worried and Celeste gave another smile. "I won't let him take you away until he's less scared, promise. Do you want to see the important Mr. Waverly?"

Another nod and then she stood slowly, grimacing at the pain and causing Fredrick to look a little worried.

"It's okay, I hurt myself and made Illya scared. Not enough to be angry, but scared. Do you want to show Mr. Waverly your lovely talents with writing and drawing?"

Another nod before the paper, then more of it, and the crayons were picked up awkwardly as her helper followed her out and up.

* * *

"Simon Avian," Elaine said as she helped out with the briefing, "is an opportunist if I ever seen one. He has various stocks in so many businesses it's mind-boggling, and he's also had a few company holdings in various areas as well. But his biggest investment, it seems, is in the human body."

She allowed the other secretary, Janice, to take over from there. "All of Avian's investments are in something that deals with the development of a part of the human body, either enhancing or taking away. He has placed generous funds into research on dementia, physical therapy, replacement limbs, and various other groups.

"He also put in a good deal of money into researching the vocal cords, which Dr. Winster was working on. According to the financial records, though, Winster refused to take the grant Avian offered him a few months ago, saying he wanted to find 'another avenue for his funding' for his project. We were unable to get any information on what type of progress it was going through."

Elaine had gone over to check on a print out as the lights went on and frowned. "Remember how Fredrick said his mother couldn't talk? Well, a medical check out said his vocal cords were fine for a kid his age, just a little unused but that's beside the point. His mother, Karen, has no medical history of being mute or deaf."

She handed the print out to Illya, who frowned at it as he read it and then looked into Winster's work. "He's been working on vocal cords, and figuring out how to encourage them for those who have vocal problems and speech impediments, or at least how to understand how they work. So that must mean something came up and his wife accidentally got into it, if she can't speak."

Elaine looked back over the medical record and pointed to one. "Or her speech impediment came up and somehow got worse. She suffered from vocal loading, but was able to get over it at times due to drinking lots of water. What if it changed and she lost her voice that way? Or got another voice problem that made her lose it?"

Illya moved away and shrugged. "Well, whatever the reason, she doesn't speak and that has caused her son to stop speaking. But she also doesn't know sign language, or he would be communicating that way."

Waverly sighed as he pulled out his pipe. "The question is, Mr. Kuryakin, what Dr. Winster was working on that would cause Avian to kidnap him and his wife. See what you can find at the nearest warehouse of his."

Illya nodded, heading out to get the information as Elaine followed him out. "Oh, Napoleon'll be back tomorrow, if you can hold out long enough for his backup."

"I'd rather solve the case on my own, thank you."

Elaine gave him a smile. "I meant with Celeste."

"As I said."

Elaine shrugged. "Your funeral."

* * *

Waverly walked into the room only to find that the child was currently asleep on the couch, mainly on top of the sleeping Celeste as well. He gave a smile and started to turn, but having been a father and a grandfather, he heard the small noise alerting him to at least one of the two being awake.

He looked back to see that Fredrick Winster was looking at him with curious eyes, obviously scared but not about to leave the safety Celeste had provided at this point.

Waverly nodded his hello as the boy continued to watch him. "I'm Mr. Waverly," he said quietly, so as not to wake Celeste, "You must be Fredrick Winster."

A quiet nod before Celeste muttered, "What's wrong, sir?"

Waverly looked over at her as she cracked one eye open to look at him before he said, "I would very much like Mr. Kuryakin to get some help from Fredrick in gaining access to the space, and in retrieving his parents."

"Mr. Kuryakin can't deal with children."

Waverly gave her a small smile. "Give him a chance."

Celeste paused, then sighed before sitting up, misplacing Fredrick to the ground as she did. "Well, you heard Mr. Waverly. You should go and help Illya, even if he can be scary. Do you want to help Illya and your Mama and Pappa?"

There was a long pause as the boy looked between Waverly than Celeste before he finally nodded and Celeste gave him a smile, helping him down. "Okay then. You'll take him from here?"

Waverly nodded as Fredrick took his hand carefully, "And I assure you Mr. Kuryakin will bring him back in one piece."

Celeste nodded. "I know he will. After all, he's Napoleon's partner. Who knows how many times that man needed to come back in one piece and wouldn't have had it not been for him?"

Waverly gave a wider smile and a small laugh before he and the boy left the room.


	3. Act 3: The Sound of Her Voice

_Act 3: "The Sound of Her Voice"_

Fredrick looked down the small corridor, big enough for him to fit in, and then back towards the man with the odd accent, Illya as Celeste called him, and Mr. Kuryakin as Mr. Waverly called him. He had scared Fredrick earlier, and because of Celeste had stayed away. Now he was with Fredrick again, this time to help him save his Mama and Pappa.

"Go down there," Illya had said, "until you see a panel with a large button. Push the button and wait there for myself or your father to speak from this end of the corridor. Don't go anywhere else, just wait there. You'll be safe there, and if you're not safe, Celeste will probably hurt me for it later on."

Fredrick understood and crawled forward, finding the box where Illya had said and carefully pushing the large button indicated. He waited as he heard the sound of soft footsteps echoing below him while the tall, blond man made his way in. He briefly saw what appeared to be a camera, angled downward, following the moments, though the light was off at the time and it seemed to be doing it just regularly.

Fredrick squirmed as he waited, wanting it to be over with, wanting to find out what happened, but too scared to go forward or leave without Illya or his promised Pappa telling him so.

* * *

As he found the room, Illya felt himself freeze upon touching the doorknob, his whole body tensing as if an electrical shock had hit him but without the same effects. Having been shocked before, Illya tried to analyze the situation as he ordered his body to move, to do something other then stand there like he was frozen, like...

Unbidden, the headache from another assignment when he had been frozen came in and he felt himself struggle and fight to get free before he heard from another side. "Ah, you must be that man who took Fredrick away. I recognize you. Charlie, please release him from the door."

The same moment it had appeared, it was gone and Illya fell backwards, his head aching and his body now waking up like it had been through a long sleep or period of inactivity. His head rolled to the side and he focused on Simon Avian, who had been speaking to him before, his guard, probably Charlie, holding a gun towards him.

"Search him, if you would. I must say, I didn't expect you to find me so quickly. I was hoping for a little more time before the machine was complete."

His Special removed, Illya found his voice. "Machine?"

"The one that Dr. Winster found accidentally, which took away his wife's voice. It tends to relax the voice muscles if strained, but it relaxes them far too much, causing them to be useless. It would be a great addition to my collection."

Illya's mind worked overtime as his body started to remember how to move. "You mean the other research areas you've been funding...involving the human body."

"You _are _quite good! Yes, like the machine connected to the doorknob that held you in place. It was quite a find, though I heard of such a gun being used by some secretive organization and freezing both mind and body for a long amount of time. I simply was lucky enough to gain one and...improved on it."

Illya remembered that gun, as well as its effect and use. One minute he had tried to call Napoleon, the next he found himself looking up at Napoleon then having a large headache that had followed him for the rest of the Affair, until saving Mr. Waverly and moving him. Only then had he been able to get a few aspirin for his head and learn that the actual gun, which both he and Section Eight had been looking forward to claiming, was gone.

"So I see," Illya slowly stood, his balance and body shaking from the effort and effects of the machine.

"You'll be disoriented for a while as well, I assure you," Avian said as the guard moved forward and held him up to a point, though kept him out of range of both guns, "So, tell me, why were you interested in the Winster's project?"

Illya stayed silent and Avian tsked. "Such devotion is nice, but I'm afraid not going to help you. Whatever can be created to help mankind often comes after something is though up to help destroy it, or to help in getting answers from people like you. I have a good number of gadgets that are defective of their original use but do quite well in loosening the tongue of anyone. Now, are you going to talk or not?"

Illya didn't disbelieve him in this situation, but he wasn't about to say anything, not when Fredrick's life and his parent's lives could count on his silence.

A sigh from Avian. "Come on then. I'll let you see the Winster's, and see if we can get their brat of a child's location from you. After that, I have a few that some people didn't survive to see. It will be fun, using them against you."

* * *

Illya was quite surprised to note that Fredrick seemed to take after his father in looks more so then his mother, but was still playing as if the machine was effecting him too much to make Charlie do more of the work.

"Well?" Avian asked angrily, glaring at Dr. Winster and his wife, "Who is he? Where is he from?"

"I..I've never seen him before," Winster said, "Please, sir, we haven't..."

Avian growled before saying, "I have every reason to believe he's part of an organization that means to end your project, Winster. Do you really want that? For your money to end and your wife to remain mute?"

Winster paled and Illya took that moment to speak up. "We would ensure your continued research, Dr. Winster, but in order to find a way to help people, not expand some empire in the making!"

The harsh slap made Illya's ears ring before a female voice said, "Don't hurt him!"

* * *

"Don't hurt him!"

Fredrick's head snapped up at the sound, and he turned quickly towards it when he did. His mouth worked, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything until he saw her.

With that thought, and not about how angry Illya would be, Fredrick moved away from the panel and to the sound of the voice.

* * *

The group looked over as Karen Winster put both hands over her mouth, a look of fear in her eyes while Avian turned back towards her husband. "You fixed her...and didn't tell me?"

"I..."

Illya moved, not as graceful as he would've been but with enough speed to get his gun and to shove Charlie away from him as Avian pulled his own gun out.

"Stop!" the two voices showed that a Mexican stand-off had just appeared, Charlie pointing his gun at Illya while Illya's gun pointed towards Avian.

"Put it down," Avian said with a grin as he looked backwards at Illya, "you can't win."

Illya looked over at Karen Winster, then at Charlie, before he said, "You should give up. If I do not call in, more people will come, until the truth is found out and you are shown to be the man you really are. My job is to keep the world safe from people like you, and I have done a good job at it so far."

Avian snorted. "I doubt it. And if they come, one will bring Fredrick Winster. I don't need you if you don't have him with you."

* * *

"—him with you."

The bad bird-man was pointing a gun at Pappa, and Mama looked scared. Illya was between the bird-man and another, who was under where Fredrick was, and who was pointing a gun at Illya.

If Illya got her, Fredrick was sure Celeste would be sad, and then what would happen to Mama and Pappa? Illya said he would bring them back, so he couldn't get hurt, could he?

Mind made up, Fredrick released a catch holding the screen on and allowed it to drop on the other man's head as a gunshot went off above them. Fredrick cringed back as his Pappa went forward to fight with the bird-man and Illya grabbed Mama. "Get out of here!"

"But--."

Illya moved to help Pappa as Mama stopped at the door, watching the fight before another shot sounded, Fredrick having to cover his ears at the loud sound while he saw the bird-man drop.

Pappa was shaking as he stood, helping Illya up. "Is he?"

"He is. I'll call in some help. But how—" Illya looked up, his face confused as he spotted Fredrick at the hole, looking down at him.

Illya sighed, walking over and ensuring the other man was unconscious before holding up his hands and helping Fredrick out. "I told you to stay near the panel. What brought you all the way here?"

"Fredrick?" his Mama's voice made him turn, smile and race over to hug her, making sure she was okay.

* * *

"I see," Illya allowed himself a smile as he opened his communicator. "Open Channel D, please."

"_Hey, you're okay!_"

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Celeste?"

"_You took the kid I adopted, I got worried and hobbled my way down here to wait for you to call in._"

"Does that mean I get visiting rights?"

"_You will, Mr. Kuryakin,_" Waverly's voice cut in, "_When you report on how your mission went_."

Illya felt himself blush, realizing that this must be how Napoleon felt when caught flirting with the girls on the other line, "Mission a success, sir. Avian is dead, and the Winsters are back together. I'll take them back to Headquarters for debriefing and call in a cleanup crew."

"_A good idea, Mr. Kuryakin. Headquarters out._"

Illya closed the pen, then walked back over to help the family out of the area and back to UNCLE.

* * *

Napoleon was flirting with the girl at the counter when Illya came in, and smiled at the family and Illya. "Glad to see it all worked out."

Illya accepted the three visitor badges and his own as he and Napoleon walked in. "So I see you're not strictly Elaine's."

"Oh, that. Old habits die hard. Besides, she's a nice girl and I enjoy talking to her."

"I see."

"You're the one who mentioned that I shouldn't be so exclusive."

"So I did."

Napoleon turned and waved his goodbye as Illya showed the family into the main room, where Waverly and Celeste waited. Fredrick raced over to Celeste and pulled her over to the family with light tugs while Waverly spoke to them about UNCLE and their purpose, as well as asked to help fund his research. Dr. Winster thanked Waverly but declined.

"I have to think of my family," he told him, "and after this, I don't want them in any more danger. I'll see what else I can do."

Waverly accepted that and gave him the name of a good college that would probably accept him, as well as thanking Fredrick for all of his work in finding his family.

Celeste, after seeing a small look, headed over and handed the drawings over to the family. "Not exactly something to hang on the fridge, but it's close. He's been a dear."

Fredrick smiled as his mom gave him a hug. "Thank you, my dear, and for taking care of him."

Celeste grinned and said, "It was a joint operation. Illya helped out a great deal too."

Illya cast her a glare before giving the family a shy look as they turned to him. "It was nothing, really."

"Illya and Celeste like each other, and help me out!"

The whole group looked at Fredrick, who smiled up at his mother as he continued, "Can they visit me later? I like them!"

Celeste blushed and smiled, noting the small blush on Illya's cheeks as well.

Karen smiled at them as Illya said, "Our schedule is quite demanding. It would be hard--."

"--but if we have a free weekend and the boss okay's it, we'll be sure to try and visit." Celeste told the sad-looking Fredrick with a smile. "Of course, Mr. Waverly _has _to make sure you're good first! He's like Santa, but without the reindeer."

Celeste's reddening face told Illya she knew she might catch a lot of heat for this later, but it was all for Fredrick.

Illya nodded. "I suppose it might be okay, but only if he was good. And Mr. Waverly would have to approve it."

Celeste smiled, then frowned. "Wait, where's the college?"

"California."

The two sighed, as did Fredrick, who seemed to know that California was far away from New York.

Waverly paused, then said, "I have an idea, however, for him to remember you both by."

Illya hoped this would be a good idea.


	4. Act 4: Family is

_Act 4: "Family is..."_

"That's cute!"

"I can't believe he had us take that picture."

Napoleon walked up, sitting down with Celeste and Illya before asking, "What picture?"

"The one with me, him and Fredrick," Celeste told him, "We just got a letter from Fredrick right before he left, saying he was going to wear all black like Illya does and make lots of drawings so he can show the world all the things in it." She paused, "I hope he doesn't become famous when he shouldn't be."

"Let's not go into that," Elaine muttered as she walked over, plopping down beside Napoleon, "God what a day!"

Napoleon gave her a smile. "Couldn't be that bad."

Elaine cast him a glare. "It is when you've heard from a few girls about how someone in Section Two is offering them dates."

"Ah, well, such things--."

"A certain head of Section Two."

"Oh."

Celeste and Illya quickly stood and walked away, not bothering with excuses as Elaine looked at Napoleon, who watched Illya leave with a wounded look on his face.

"So, what was this about 'not being exclusive'? Or are old habits too hard to break?"

Napoleon sighed. "I would have said something earlier, but I got caught up."

"You got caught up doing what? Reminding me how much men stink, or how much--."

"Elaine," Napoleon's voice was firm enough to stop her rant. "It's not about you, and it's not about not being exclusive. It's not even about what's been offered and what hasn't."

"Then what is it about? Appearances?"

"Timing."

Elaine stopped short as Napoleon told her, "You _are _a good friend. I respect you a good deal. So I won't lie to you when I say that I do flirt. I did make dates, and all during a time when they _couldn't _make it. I was going to take you somewhere special but work has gotten in the way for both of us. I'm sorry you had to learn about it this way. It was going to be a surprise."

* * *

Celeste watched from afar before saying, "She'll throw something in his face."

"She leaves," Illya countered.

Neither happened.

"They don't make a good soap opera couple..."

"You want them to?"

"No, but it would be fun."

* * *

Elaine sighed as she leaned back. "So now what? Celeste's done with parental instincts and Illya's apologized. What more do you want?"

Napoleon paused before asking, "Are you free Friday night? If so, I'd like to take you out, and promise to bring you back before midnight."

Elaine looked at her food before saying, "I won't forgive you if you hurt me, Napoleon."

"I know. But you are nice to talk to, and I think we have a good amount to discuss on Friday."

Elaine nodded. "Fine. Friday it is."

* * *

"I see why you saved it for tonight," Illya said as he looked at the two bottles, one titled Skyy and the other a good brand of Stoli that she had 'acquired' from somewhere. "Thank you. It was either that or drink it myself, and I'd rather have it with friends," a third, smaller bottle, that of Jose Cuervo Gold, along with a salt shaker and some lime slices, appeared. "So, you've never had a body-shot, huh? Well, here's how it works..."

* * *

Elaine cast a dubious look at the door and blinked.

"What's wrong?" Napoleon asked, taking another bite of the delicious appetizers they had ordered.

"You know how one gets the feeling you're being followed? I just had that."

Napoleon nodded, scanning the room before saying, "I'll be on the lookout. So, why don't you like oysters again?"

* * *

"So nothing happened?"

"Aside from her forgetting he was here and walking out in a towel that barely covered her goodies? Nope, nada, zip and zero...how would you say that in Russian?"

"I'd tell you," Illya poured them another shot of Stoli for the two, "but I doubt you'd remember."

"It's genetics. I have all this Irish and English and French blood in me, but it doesn't help that the Native American in me has a low alcohol tolerance."

Illya smiled. "I doubt it's just that. Another question, though."

"Shoot," Celeste said as she munched on a tortilla chip she had gotten for the occasion.

"What _is _your last name?"

"We never told you?"

* * *

"No, you didn't," Napoleon told her as the appetizers were taken away and more water was poured into their glasses. "We only know you as Elaine and Celeste. No last names."

"I thought Celeste told you."

Napoleon shook his head, and Elaine leaned back against her chair. "That's really weird."

"It is. So?"

"So?"

"Your last name?"

"Oh! Sorry, my mind got off track." Elaine took a drink of water before saying, "Elaine Salomon at your service, Mr. Solo."

* * *

"I didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Wow."

"Indeed."

Celeste ate a few more chips before saying, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Celeste smiled then said, "Well, I'm Celeste Lancaster-Morin."

There was a pause on Illya's part as Celeste took a drink, then she blinked at him before he asked, "Why that?"

"Why what?"

He gestured as he said, "The hyphen. Lancaster-Morin."

Celeste grinned as she said, "Dunno. My dad just had it that way. I guess my grandma and grandpa wanted to have both names, not just one. Or something like that."

Illya took his drink then asked, "So, now what?"

"Now what what?"

* * *

"Now what do we do? I mean, besides just being friends," Elaine asked Napoleon as their meals came out.

Napoleon sighed, then told her, "I'm not too sure. I've never had the type of situation where the person I'm pursuing will be gone in a year and I'll have to realize that the next time I see her, I'll be old enough to be her grandfather. Nor have I really met a lady like you."

"I'm not a lady."

"You are, compared to others, trust me," Napoleon gave her a smile. "And either way, I enjoy your company. I hate to say it, but when you come down to it, you're like Illya in a way, and I'm his best friend. I know him very well, and having someone who is the red-haired female version of him is...intriguing."

Elaine paused, then asked, "So I take it you've heard that rumor about you two?"

"Which one?"

"The one about you enjoying a white Russian for an after-hours drink at your place."

Napoleon spit most of his wine out into the glass and coughed into his napkin. "I, ah, never heard it like that before, but I have heard it. And no, we don't. We're just friends."

* * *

"That's nice, though it's also disappointing."

Illya cast a glance at her as they leaned against each other, no more chips to eat and most of the vodka and stoli gone, "Why?"

"Well...just...you know how some people like girl on girl?"

"I hate to think there are people who do."

"There are. Most men, in fact, like such things. I guess because it's easier to imagine them between the two."

"Ah. So why does this involve myself and Napoleon?"

"I like yaoi. Yaoi is two cute men getting it on."

"I'm not cute, and neither is Napoleon."

"Nope," Celeste drew the word out, "you're not _cute_, but you are nice on the eyes and Napoleon's handsome too. But I like you better."

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

"Sure it is."

"Where were we before this question came up?"

Celeste paused to think before saying, "My move!" She sat up to make a move on the computer-simulated chess board. "There!"

Illya frowned then moved. "Checkmate. You have to take the shot."

* * *

At around 11: 40 pm, EST, Elaine and Napoleon made it back to drop her off at her apartment inside of UNCLE headquarters. He stopped at her door and said, "Well, it was fun. I don't suppose we can't do it again?"

"Not if you want your reputation in tact."

"I like variety."

Elaine frowned. "However we do this, Napoleon, just let's not go too far."

Napoleon nodded in agreement as Elaine tested the door and frowned at finding it unlocked. She slowly made her way in, Napoleon behind her at the door before he heard, "Napoleon, you still there?"

"What's wrong?" he asked as he came in and paused upon the sight before him.

Celeste and Illya were both out for the count, if the bottle of vodka and Stoli said anything. Illya had somehow gotten most of his shirt unbuttoned and Celeste was getting close to having most of her clothing off too, if the rumpled nature said anything. Both weren't wearing shoes and the sounds of violence were coming from the small computer that was in front of them, which Elaine was stopping and turning off.

"Of all the romantic movies to watch to get you into the mood," she muttered as she put the disk away and then asked, "Should I leave them on the couch or just take my desk?"

Napoleon gave her a smile. "What, and miss out on this blackmail opportunity?"

"I meant after the blackmail."

"I say put them in the same bed. See what happens in the morning."

Elaine grinned. "Okay then. Let me get my camera and then we'll move them."

* * *

Illya slowly woke to feeling himself holding something soft and with curves, and who was currently snuggling both himself and the pillow they shared on the soft bed. He also heard something like a click of a camera and his eyes came open in time to see Napoleon and Elaine move away as he sat up and looked down at the armful of Celeste he held.

She blinked, looked at him, then muttered, "Did we finish the movie?"

"I don't recall."

"Crap. I liked it too."

"I think we've been blackmailed, though."

"By who?"

"Elaine and Napoleon."

Celeste slowly disentangled herself, motioning for Illya to not move as she made her was out of the sleeping area, then around and finally he heard a click and some banging on the door that didn't help his headache.

"What did you do?"

"Locked her out, bolted the door, and took her camera."

"Ah."

"Less talk, more sleep?"

"Yes, good idea."


End file.
